


A Host of Seraphim

by Sermocinare



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Angels, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Transformation, Wingfic, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-09
Updated: 2011-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-24 10:46:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sermocinare/pseuds/Sermocinare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an accident in the genetics lab, Adrian grows three pairs of wings, and decides to call the only person who might be of help in that kind of situation: Dan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the kinkmeme on LJ. This is the slightly revised and edited version.

It took Daniel a while before he realized that the insistent ringing of the phone wasn't part of his dream, but rather reality intruding on him, drilling into his sleep and breaking apart the landscapes his subconscious had painted. When he had finally untangled himself from underneath his blanket, he half expected the ringing to stop, but apparently, whoever it was wasn't one to give up quickly, which meant that this was probably important.

Well, it better be, seeing how it was about three in the morning.

“Hello?” Dan's voice sounded dry and raspy with sleep, even to his own ears.

“Daniel. Thank God you're home.”

“...Adrian? What... it's the middle of the night...” Dan pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to shoo away the last cobwebs of sleep hanging around the edge of his mind.

“I know. I'm terribly sorry.” And surprisingly enough, that didn't sound like a platitude, but rather like the hands-down truth. “I wouldn't have called you if the circumstances weren't as they are. But...”

There was silence for a few seconds, which was unnerving. Adrian had never been at a loss for words. Then, there was a rushing sound, an inhalation of breath on the other side of the line that sounded almost like a wave running away from the shore.

“Daniel, could you come over? Right now? Please. I can't explain this over the phone, it's just too...” Another silence, then: “Please.” There was no mistaking the note of despair, the sheer pleading in Adrian's voice, and it sent a cold shiver down Dan's spine.

“I'll be over as quickly as possible.” Dan tried to sound reassuring, but didn't quite manage, worry taking over his thoughts. This was all so unlike Adrian. Calling him in the middle of the night, the silence, the begging... something was seriously wrong.

“Thank you.” Adrian breathed a sigh of relief. “I really didn't know who else to call about... this.”

–

By the time Dan was standing in the elevator riding up to Adrian's penthouse, his mind had come up with about half a dozen of the most horrible scenarios possible, even though most of them were completely implausible. After all, if Adrian had lost a limb or shattered every bone in his body, he wouldn't have called Dan. He would have done the sensible thing and gone to the hospital. Besides probably not being able to phone anyone at all any more. But then again, logic had never stopped anyone from imagining catastrophe, and Dan was no exception.

The doors of the elevator opened directly into the penthouse, and for a moment, Dan was taken aback by the darkness that surrounded him. None of the lights were on, the only illumination being provided by the bone-white half-moon in the sky, whose ghostly light painted everything into shades of black, blue and gray.

“Adrian?” Dan called out, one foot inside the apartment, the other still in the elevator, as if to keep an escape route open.

“I'm over here.” Adrian's voice was quiet, just a notch above a whisper.

Dan turned his head in the direction the words had came from, and for a moment, he was sure he hadn't in fact woken up back when the phone had rang, that it had been part of some strange dream, a dream that was still feeding his mind with images that were just too surreal to believe even while he was still asleep.

Adrian was standing in front of the large glass windows that made up the penthouse's outer wall. He had placed himself as far away from the elevator's doors as possible, the room's sofas, armchairs and table somehow reminding Daniel of the moats and walls surrounding a medieval keep.

And Adrian, oh, he looked like something from a different time and place, too, something that had stepped out of the murals decorating the ceiling of a gothic cathedral, an angel come down from heaven to grace earth's poor sinners with his presence. Or possibly smite them, burn them with holy fire in the name of his all-powerful God.

Dan closed his eyes, shook his head almost violently, but when he opened them again, they were still there. Three pairs of wings, their feathers white as freshly fallen snow and almost glowing even in the dim light of the room. From what Dan could make out, they were sprouting from Adrian's back, top, middle and bottom, and oh, they were huge, the bend of the uppermost pair arching high over Adrian's head while the tips of its feathers almost brushed the floor. The other two pairs were a bit smaller, hidden away beneath the uppermost pair, probably not even visible if Adrian had been standing with his back towards Dan.

“My God, Adrian...” Daniel breathed, and he could see Adrian tense up, wings pulling in like a cloak, their feathers shaking slightly, blurring their otherwise sharp outlines. “They're beautiful.”

“No, Daniel,” Adrian replied, shaking his head slowly, his voice still barely audible, “they're not. They're freakish and abnormal.” Then, Adrian straightened up, stepping towards Dan with a sad, tired smile on his face: “But I knew that you would most likely think differently, and that's why I called you. You're the only person I know who wouldn't simply run away screaming. You're the only one who might actually stay around and help me find a solution to this problem.”

“Of course I'll help you,” Dan murmured, still a bit in shock from everything. Somehow, hearing the other man speak had driven home the point that no, this was not a dream or some angelic vision, this was, in fact, Adrian. Who had grown three pairs of wings. Dan took off his glasses, taking a few steps into the room until he was standing in front of Adrian, then put them on again: “How did... what happened?”

“An accident in the genetics lab,” Adrian said, his expression grim. “Someone didn't follow proper safety protocol, and I got, well, infected. I started feeling sick a few days ago. Fever, back pains, and then, tonight...” He held up his fists and uncurled his fingers, mimicking a small explosion.

“Did it hurt?” Dan blurted out the question before he could stop himself, regretting it instantly.

The corner of Adrian's mouth twitched upwards: “What do you think? Let's just say that I'm glad that I am the only one who actually lives in this building, and that the walls are pretty much soundproof. Also, you really shouldn't go into the bedroom if you're squeamish. I'm afraid I'm going to have to redecorate. I don't think the blood will wash off from the wallpaper.”

It was only now that Dan noticed the discoloration, the dark spots on the edges of the uppermost pair of wings. He stepped around to get a glance of the feathers on the outside. They appeared to be matted, splotched and streaked with black, and Dan felt a cold shiver run down his spine. It must have been torturous, having those things burst out of your back, even if they probably hadn't been as big when they broke forth.

“God, Adrian...” Dan reached out towards Adrian's shoulder with one hand, but Adrian moved aside, keeping himself out of arm's reach. Always keeping himself out of reach. If you thought about it for a moment, it was rather fitting that Adrian should have grown wings...

“Can you fly?” Another question, following Dan's line of thought.

Adrian gave a shrug, then winced: “I don't know.”

“You haven't tried?” Dan looked at Adrian, not even trying to mask his incredulity.

“Well for one, my back still hurts quite a bit from just having my skeletal and muscular structure rearranged, and having these things jab through the skin from the inside,” Adrian shot back, his voice dripping cold venom, “and also, that is not the point, Daniel. The point of all this, the reason why I called you here, is that I want you to help me get rid of them.”

Dan shook his head: “I'm sorry, Adrian. You called the wrong person.”

“You won't help me, then?”

Adrian still sounded angry, but the way he drew his arms around his torso, and that short flicker of hurt that had flashed in his eyes... Dan sighed, softening his expression: “No, that's not what I said. I said that you called the wrong person not because I don't want to help you, but because I can't.”

“But you know so much about birds, their anatomy...”

“Yes. But Adrian, you're not a bird. You're human.” Dan kept his voice low, soothing, as if talking to a scared child: “You should go to a hospital. Or even better, go back to your genetics department. I'm sure they can help you.”

“No. I can't do that, Dan. I can't. I couldn't bear the way they would look at me, as if I'm some... some freak, some sideshow act. Not again.” The last bit had been said so quietly, Dan almost didn't hear it. The room fell silent for a moment, then Adrian drew a deep breath, straightening up a bit, and gave Dan a pained smile: “Besides, I fired the genetics department. For their gross negligence of basic safety precautions.”

“...all of them?”

“All of them.”

Dan couldn't help but chuckle: “I didn't know you had a temper.”

“Just because I've grown wings doesn't mean I'm an angel, Dan.”

–

Dan had done his best to try and talk Adrian into going to the hospital, but Adrian had proved to be more stubborn than a mule whose hooves had been glued to the floor. In the end, both of them had started pleading with the other, and Adrian had won.

“I'm just not ready for anyone else to see me like this, Dan,” he had said, giving Dan a look that was so scared and lost that all that had been left of Dan's resolve had melted away like snow in the desert. “Just help me get through the first few days, and maybe then I'll go?”

Now they were standing in Adrian's bathroom, with Dan trying his best to rinse the blood out of Adrian's feathers. It was a good thing that Adrian hadn't spared any expenses when it came to furnishing the bathroom, putting in a shower that was big enough for at least four people. Dan thought of the little cabin he had in his brownstone, and shook his head. They would never have been able to maneuver Adrian in there.

“I guess you'll have to experiment with folding them a bit,” Dan said, raising his voice a bit above the rush of water, “else, you'll get stuck in doors and elevators all the time.”

“Or bump into them,” Adrian grumbled. One of his wings had snagged on the doorframe on their way into the bathroom. “That hurt.” He was standing with his forearms resting against the wall, his head pillowed on his hands and his eyes closed while Dan tried to get the blood out without having to resort to shampoo. “But the water feels nice.”

“How much sensation do you have in them?”

“Depends.” Adrian gave a shrug, the slight motion of his shoulders amplified into a short almost-flap of his wings. “Higher up, where the new muscle and bone is, it doesn't feel much different from someone touching my back through a layer of clothing. Further down, where it's just the feathers... I'm not sure. A bit like if you were stroking my hair. But not really. It's hard to describe.”

“You know,” Dan mused, “I've always wondered how birds feel their wings, the wind rushing over and beneath them. And now... it's fascinating.”

“Oh, I believe it is. From the outside.”

Dan bit his lip. “Sorry.”

“No.” Adrian sighed, then turned his head to give Dan a small smile: “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. After all, you're here, and you're helping me. I should be grateful. And I am, really. It's just that I'm tired. And...” Adrian swallowed hard, his fingers clenching, a small line appearing on his brow.

“It's all right,” Dan said, saving Adrian from having to spell it out. “I would be scared and confused, too, if it were me.”

Adrian gave a short, rumbling chuckle: “Somehow, I think you would probably manage this a lot more gracefully than I have, so far.”

“You never know,” Dan said with a soft shrug.

For a while, there was no other sound than the gentle rush of water while Dan painstakingly removed all traces of blood from the otherwise pristine feathers, and even though he knew how Adrian must feel about it all, Dan couldn't help but be fascinated, almost enthralled by Adrian's wings. He noticed the myriads of different feathers, from the almost tiny ones that covered the leading edge right down to the primaries, the largest of which were longer than Dan's arm. Occasionally, Dan would run a finger along a rachis or a vane, following its curve and contour, sometimes right up to where the shaft disappeared into the skin. He really would have to talk Adrian into going to a hospital and have x-rays taken, just to see if the bone structure of his wings corresponded with that in birds, or if this was just an analogous form with an entirely different skeletal anatomy.

“Daniel.”

Adrian's voice broke through Dan's musings, and he blinked: “Hm?”

“Do you think that you'll be done soon?” Adrian's voice sounded tight, even a bit strained.

“We can stop right now. Did I hurt you?” Damn. He should have paid more attention to what he was doing, instead of letting his curiosity, and his hands, run wild.

“No,” Adrian said, shaking his head and biting his lower lip, “don't worry. But I do think you should stop now.”

“Sure. I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to hurt you.”

“Dan.” Adrian drew a deep breath, and Dan could see that he was shivering slightly. “Please. You are not hurting me.”

“You don't have to pretend-”

“Daniel.” Adrian's voice was low, and he turned his head to look directly at Dan, his eyes dark as he flashed him a strange little grin: “For the last time, you are not hurting me. Actually, you have been doing pretty much the exact opposite of hurting me, and if you don't intend to help me with resolving that issue, I suggest you leave me alone for a few minutes.”

It took a few seconds for realization to dawn, but when it did, Dan immediately felt the heat rush into his head.

“Oh. Oh, dear. Um, yes. I guess I'd better leave you alone, then...”

Fumbling the showerhead back into its place, Dan quickly turned and stepped out of the shower, trying not to slip on the wet tiles as he bent down to retrieve his pants from the floor. Pulling them on over his now somewhat damp boxers, Dan reached for his fogged-up glasses and tried very hard not to think about what Adrian had just said.

As he closed the bathroom door behind him, he could only just pick up Adrian's faintly grumbled words: “Jesus Christ. That's just what I need right now. More erogenous zones.”

\--

After a surprisingly short time – but oh, no, Dan was not letting his mind go there – Adrian stuck his head around the bathroom door, looking at Dan with a suitably embarrassed expression: “...Dan?”

“Hm?”

“How do I get these things dry?”

Oh. So that was what Adrian was embarrassed about. But then, it kind of was a silly question, if you thought about it.

“Haven't you ever watched a bird take a bath?”

Adrian blinked, then frowned, his tone a tad defensive: “I grew up in the city.”

Well, so had Dan, but he had still managed to observe how birds dealt with getting wet. Dan furrowed his brow slightly, then readjusted his glasses: “Well, you could always use a blowdryer. On low. But I really wouldn't recommend that, it might mess with the structure and cohesion of your feathers. Honestly, I'd just try shaking them a bit, and let the rest dry on its own.”

“I'll try that, then,” Adrian said, before pulling his head back and closing the bathroom door. A few seconds later, Dan heard a loud rushing, rustling noise, almost like a huge flock of pigeons passing overhead. It ended in a loud crash, followed by the sound of something metal and several other things hitting the floor, and a shout: “Ow! Damn!”

Dan rushed to the bathroom door, knocking once for courtesy before worry took over and he opened the bathroom door a fraction, just enough to peek through. “Adrian? Everything all right?”

Adrian was standing in the middle of the bathroom, most of his body hidden by the slight curve of his half-outstretched wings, one hand rubbing his skull gingerly. The marble-tiled floor was littered with various things, a razor, a brush, a can of hairspray, some kind of metal cup...

“I'm all right,” Adrian groaned, petting his hair down and managing to look both lost and angry at the same time. “It's just that as I was shaking the wings,” he didn't say my wings, Dan noted, “I accidentally hit one of the shelves, and managed to hit myself in the head with that can of hairspray. It must have had quite a velocity, the way my head is hurting...”

Dan had to duck back out of view, pressing his hand to his mouth to hide his grin, and the giggle that was threatening to bubble out of his chest. As soon as he had himself back under control, he stuck his head into the bathroom again: “You know, we should try and somehow measure how much force is behind those wings of yours. Birds' wings are surprisingly strong, and seeing how big yours are, they might pack quite a punch, figuratively speaking.”

Adrian pulled on his pants, still hidden behind his sloping outer wing, and gave a deep, long-suffering sigh: “Honestly, Daniel, I'd rather think about how to get rid of them. I'm quickly getting tired of bumping or smashing into things just because I don't know how to control these things. Did you know that in the time between me calling you and your arrival here, I managed to knock over a 3600 year old artifact? It is rather annoying. Not to mention costly. I really hope it can be repaired.”

“Well, if you would just go to the hospital-”

“No.” Straightening up, Adrian turned his head, giving Dan a sharp look, his wings slowly pulling in against his body until they were once more lying against his back. For a moment, neither man said anything, then Adrian broke the building tension with a soft sigh. He shook his head, his damp hair falling into his eyes: “I have my reasons. Please, Dan, just let it be.”

“All right. But,” Dan adjusted his glasses again, then narrowed his eyes at Adrian, “if you want me to help you, you're going to have to start listening to me, Adrian. You called me because you wanted my expertise. And now you're just going to have to trust that I know what I'm doing.”

Adrian blinked, then looked away. Dan could see the muscles in Adrian's jaw working, as if Adrian were literally chewing over what Dan had just said. Dan felt a pang of guilt over having been so harsh to Adrian – after all, the man had just gone through an experience that had been both painful and frightening, and on top of that had the potential to throw Adrian's up to now well-ordered life upside down. That, Dan mused, was probably the worst part of it. Adrian was used to being in control in almost every situation he put himself in, be it a board meeting or a confrontation with an armed robber. In all the cases they had worked together, Dan could count the times Adrian had been genuinely taken by surprise on one hand. And now, this.

Dan sighed, and took a few steps into the bathroom, until he was standing next to Adrian. This time, Dan didn't even attempt to touch him. “Listen, Adrian... I'm sorry. Just trust me, OK?”

Adrian looked at Dan out of the corner of his eyes, and finally, his lips curved into a small, tired smile: “Just trust you. That's harder than you think. But I'll try. If nothing else, I'll try to be less... prickly about your suggestions as to what we should do with these.” He gave the wings a small shake, their feathers rustling together softly.

Dan returned Adrian's smile, nodding: “That sounds good. I probably won't be of much help with getting rid of them, but I can help you with making the best of it while you have them.” He let his smile widen to a grin, and gave Adrian a conspiratorial wink: “At least until you've hired a new genetics team.”

Adrian blinked at him, and Dan almost thought he had gone too far and was in for another snappish response, but then, Adrian's mouth started to twitch, his chest trembling with half-smothered laughter: “Oh dear. Yes, that is probably the second stupidest thing I've ever done in my life.”

“What's the stupidest thing, then?” Dan couldn't help but ask, chuckling.

Adrian gave him a smile, challenging and mysterious: “Maybe I'll tell you one day.”

“Looking forward to it,” Dan quipped, then turned around and went back into the living room, with Adrian trailing behind. He sat down on the sofa again, his forearms resting on his knees, and squinted up at Adrian. It was only from this angle that Dan noticed the dark shadows underneath Adrian's eyes, and the slight tremble in the other man's fingers. Leave it to Adrian to grow a pair of wings and still carry himself as if he'd done nothing more exhausting than going for an afternoon walk in the park.

“You know, I think we could both do with a bit of sleep,” Dan said, leaning back on the sofa and not even trying to hide a small yawn. “After all, I was woken up in the middle of the night, and you, well, I kind of think you haven't had much sleep at all til now.”

“That does sound like a good idea,” Adrian said, and Dan could see the hint of a thankful smile playing around the corners of his mouth. Then, Adrian looked back in the direction of the bedroom, and crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes narrowing: “Although I really don't feel like going back in there.”

“Do you have a guest room here?”

Adrian nodded: “Yes. You can sleep there, if you don't fancy the ride home. Of course, I can also call you a cab, and you'd just come back here tomorrow? Or rather,” Adrian said with a smirk in the direction of the windows, where the blue of night was just starting to give way to the greyish-pink hues of early morning, “later today.”

“Um, I was thinking more about you, Adrian. I'll just take the couch. Honestly,” Dan said, holding up his hand to stop Adrian's counter-arguments in their tracks, “I'm fine with that. Just give me a blanket and a pillow, and I'm a happy camper.” Dan chuckled: “After all, it's not like I haven't fallen asleep in front of the TV on my own couch countless times, and yours is a lot more luxurious than mine.”

Adrian considered this for a moment, then gave a short nod: “All right. If you say so. I'll get you a pillow and a blanket from the guest room.”

After handing Dan the blanket and pillow, Adrian had excused himself. “Good night, Dan. And thank you for being here.” Dan had returned his smile, and then set about making himself comfortable on the couch, which had taken less time than he had thought.

Adrian's sofa really was quite roomy and comfortable, and now, his head resting on the smooth purple silk that encased the pillow, Dan listened to the sounds of Adrian rustling around in the guest room. Judging from the noises and the occasional muttered curse in what was probably German, Adrian was having a bit of a problem finding a comfortable position to sleep in. If he were a bird, Dan mused, his mind already foggy with sleep, he could just sleep standing up, locking his knees in position, but oh, that probably wouldn't work what with Adrian's torso being upright and all. Did angels need sleep? But Adrian wasn't really an angel, not by a stretch, even though he really did look glorious...

It was to that thought that Dan fell asleep, the first rays of the sun still hidden behind New York's artificially raised horizon.


	2. Chapter 2

When Dan awoke, the sun was high in a crisp, clear early autumn sky, illuminating everything with sharp, new clarity, and for a moment, Dan was sure that everything had just been a dream. A very realistic, tactile dream, but a dream nonetheless. But if it had been a dream, what was he doing sleeping on Adrian's couch?

Rubbing his eyes and blinking against the brightness, Dan fumbled for his glasses, plucking them off the coffee table and wiping them against the silken bedcover before putting them on. The apartment was quiet, the only sound provided by the air conditioning, which was humming away almost below the edges of perception. Adrian was probably still asleep.

Dan sat up and stretched, yawning, then cast around for a clock. Almost midday, if the sleek digital affair sitting on one of the shelves could be believed. His stomach gave a small but audible rumble, reminding Dan that yes, he had skipped breakfast by sleeping right through it.

Swinging his legs off the couch, Dan ran a hand through his mussed-up hair. There had to be a kitchen around here somewhere, and he assumed that Adrian wouldn't mind if he just helped himself. After all, it was either that or wake him, and Dan thought that Adrian could really use some more sleep, after all that had happened.

Besides the doors that opened to the bathroom and the guest bedroom, Dan could make out two further doors leading off the large living room that took up most of the floor space of the penthouse. Well, one of them had to be the kitchen.

Padding over to the nearest one, Dan opened it and immediately lost his appetite. It had been the wrong door, the one that opened into the master bedroom, and Adrian hadn't been joking when he had said he would probably need to re-decorate. The bed, the floor, the walls, even parts of the ceiling were splotched reddish-brown, and the slightly metallic smell of blood assaulted Dan's nose almost immediately. The carnage was especially bad on and around the bed, blood having pooled, then caked into the bedding and the sheets. All in all, it reminded Dan of one or two of the grislier murders he had been witness to.

Shutting the door, Dan drew a deep breath, and for a moment the fact that there weren't any windows to open made him claustrophobic. But then, the penthouse was too high up for that kind of window. Shaking his head to get the images out of his mind, Dan paced the living room, and found himself standing in front of the door to the guest bedroom.

Carefully, holding his breath as to not make a sound, Dan turned the doorknob and pushed the door open a bit, just enough to stick his head through and cast a glance at the bed that stood in the middle of the room. He couldn't hear anything, couldn't see Adrian breathe, and for a moment, Dan's blood went cold. But then he saw the slight twitch of a wing, the feathers sliding against each other soundlessly, and Dan exhaled quietly. Adrian was all right. He hadn't died from exhaustion or blood loss in his sleep.

Actually, Adrian looked more alive now than he had last night, with the dark rings beneath his eyes and his carefully controlled features. Sleep had taken years off Adrian's features, making him look a lot younger than he was, lips half opened and eyes roving underneath his lids, following the sights of his dreams. His hair was tousled, the large wings lying slack, covering his body like a strange fluffy blanket, only parts of his calves and feet sticking out from underneath. Yesterday, when he had seen Adrian for the first time, Dan had been reminded of medieval paintings of archangels wielding swords and smiting sinners. But right now, he looked more like a grown-up, many-winged cupid, all sweetness and innocence.

Dan smiled to himself, and quietly pulled the door shut again. He would make himself some breakfast, and leave Adrian to his dreams a while longer. And maybe, by the time Adrian had woken up, Dan would have come up with a plan as to what to do next.

–

“All right. I figured that the first thing we should do is get you a bit more familiar with your wings. After all, you probably don't want to go around bumping into things and destroying valuable antiques for the rest of,” Dan caught himself just in time, and bit back what he had wanted to say, replacing it instead with: “the time you have them.”

Adrian nodded. He was sitting on one of the dining room chairs, his arms resting on top of the backrest. It had taken Adrian some time before he had found out how to sit down in a comfortable position, how to slope his wings so that they rested on the floor instead of being forced into some uncomfortable-looking angle, and really, it had been a pitiful sight. If Dan was completely honest with himself, he had always envied Adrian for the complete mastery over his body and movements that the other man seemed to possess. Gaining a set of rather large extra appendages had shot that grace and control straight to hell, though.

“Is there any place where we could, you know, put the wings through their paces? Without having to move half the furniture first?”

“The gym. In addition to having enough space, we could also go there without anyone seeing me.”

“You know that at some point, you're going to have to show yourself to someone besides me, right?” Dan said gently, trying to catch Adrian's eye. But Adrian averted his gaze, choosing instead to look out of the window. When it didn't seem as if Adrian would give any reply, Dan got up out of his chair: “All right, then. Let's go to the gym and see how those wings of yours move.”

–

Adrian's private gym was an elegant affair with a polished hardwood floor, ample lighting and enough space to park several cars in, not to mention several winged humans. Although just how many, Dan wasn't quite sure, having only been able to estimate Adrian's true wingspan up until now. One of the walls was covered in mirrors, and Adrian was standing with his back towards it, having studiously avoided looking at himself when they had come in. He seemed a bit ill at ease, almost nervous, his arms crossed in front of his chest protectively, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“So. What now?”

“Just move around a bit.” Dan's suggestion was answered by a tight-lipped frown, and more nervous shifting around. Dan held back a sigh. The way Adrian was behaving, you'd think that he had just been dragged in front of a panel of first-year medical students and asked to show them some kind of horrible deformity, and Dan really had to wonder why. Yes, having wings wasn't exactly normal, and a bit frightening, too, but it wasn't as if he were monstrous. Quite the contrary, actually.

“Just... take it easy. Do some simple things. Like, oh, flapping them or something.”

There was another second of nervous inactivity, and then, slowly, as if he were afraid that something horrible would happen at any second, Adrian fanned out his wings, stretching them until they were fully spread.

In some small part of his mind, Dan was aware that he was gaping, his mouth as wide as his eyes, but he really didn't care. At the moment, all he cared about was the sight of Adrian's wings in all their glory. Their span was enormous, even wider than Dan had anticipated, their lines and curves utter perfection. He could see right away that these wings were built for gliding, riding the currents, for swooping through the air with the unhurried grace of a large bird of prey.

“God, Adrian. They're perfect!”

Adrian just shook his head with a small, almost indulgent smile. Then, he gave the wings an experimental flap. Once again, Dan heard the rushing noise he'd heard last night, and this time, he could feel the gust of air on his face, which increased as Adrian started to move his wings faster and faster, until he was rocking back on his heels from the force of his own movements.

“You know, I really do think you would be able to fly,” Dan commented once Adrian's wings were still again, grinning excitedly. “We should try it.”

“I'm sorry to have to disappoint you, Daniel, but I really don't feel like plunging to my death any time soon,” Adrian replied with a sardonic smirk, folding his wings above his back again.

“Well I didn't mean that you should jump out of the highest window you can find, obviously. There are safe ways to try. Like, oh, we could go out with Archie. Some time at night, fly out over the harbor so that no one will see us. Just hover a few feet above the water. That way, you won't hurt yourself if it doesn't work.”

“I'll just get soaking wet,” Adrian said with a chuckle.

Dan rolled his eyes and grinned with fond exasperation: “Oh come on. Don't tell me you're not at least a little bit curious about if you'd be able to fly.”

Adrian crossed his arms in front of his chest and shrugged, smiling enigmatically: “Maybe. But,” he continued, holding up a hand to stop Dan from butting in before he was finished, “first, I need to know how these things move while I'm still on the ground.”

“Well, what are you waiting for, then?”

–

They stayed in the gym for quite a while, and Dan felt his heart lift with every passing hour. Watching Adrian move, seeing how he slowly grew accustomed to his new body, was a thing of beauty. The movements invariably started out cautiously, almost scared, but grew bolder and more smooth as time went by. As for the wings themselves, they had an amazing range of motion, given the obvious disadvantage of their location on Adrian's back, but they made up for the lack of rotating joints with great flexibility along the leading edges.

In the end, Dan was standing in front of Adrian, surrounded on both sides by Adrian's wings, almost as if in a feathery embrace. And for the first time since Dan had set foot into Adrian's apartment the night before, Adrian was smiling. Not just a cautious little curl along the corners of his mouth, but a real, genuine, wide smile. It suited him.

“So, are you ready to go out?”

“You make it sound like a date,” Adrian teased, wings still curving forward around his own and Dan's shoulders, and suddenly, Dan was even more aware of how close they were standing, of the light in Adrian's eyes and the soft, warm, comforting smell of feathers surrounding him.

He blinked, flustered, and adjusted his glasses, cutting short whatever unbidden but not unwelcome thought it had been that had crept up on him from the back of his mind.

“We'll have to wait until it's dark, of course. Since you don't want anyone to see you.”

Adrian folded his wings back, the movement no longer awkward, but almost as natural as if he'd folded his arms behind his back. Then, he nodded.

“Of course.” Gazing over at the clock that hung above the door to the gym, Adrian said: “It should be dark enough in about five hours. There's a helicopter landing pad on top of the tower, you can set the owlship down there.”

–

About six hours later, Archie's headlights were casting two wide cones of illumination over the otherwise dark and deserted waters way out in the bay, the light shimmering on the crests of the small waves a slight wind was whipping up on the water's surface.

Dan had lowered the rear cargo hatch, and Adrian was standing on its ledge, looking down on the black waters a few feet below. Even though he had sounded quite confident only moments ago, Dan could see by the way he held himself, the sharp, stiff angle of the wings, that Adrian was growing more and more nervous by the moment.

Dan punched a few buttons, setting Archie into hover, and raised his voice a bit over the slight din of the engines: “Don't worry. The worst that can happen is that you'll get a bit wet. Archie's equipped for water rescue, so I won't have any trouble pulling you out.”

“I'm not sure if it's failure I'm worried about,” Adrian muttered, spreading his wings halfway to test the wind.

“What?” Dan got up, crossing the short distance to the rear and giving Adrian a quizzical look.

“Never mind.”

With that, Adrian took a few steps back, angling his wings back and upwards as best as he could in the confined space of the owlship. Dan could see him draw a deep breath, and then Adrian was running, jumping, wings fanning out with a sharp snap as he plunged towards the water...

“Yes!” Dan whooped, almost jumping with joyful excitement as he watched Adrian catch the wind, turning his wings into the breeze and giving them a long, powerful stroke that took him soaring upwards, a silhouette of white against the darkness of the night, climbing into the sky.

The three pairs of wings were working in perfect unison, and even if Adrian's flight was a bit wobbly and insecure, like that of a juvenile bird taking its first flight, it was clear that he was operating on the same deep, basic instincts. Instincts that, it shot through Dan's mind, Adrian shouldn't have, not after millions of years of evolution that separated birds from mammals. But there was no other explanation for this, for the ease with which Adrian was flying, the immediate knowledge of how he had to tilt his wings to turn, flying in a wide circle above Archie and looking for all the world as if he had been born to do this.

Mysterious or not, though, Adrian's flight was a sight to behold. His wings moved in a kind of wave-like motion from the front pair to the back, and undulation that was almost sensual in its grace. It looked easy, almost effortless, but Dan had witnessed the raw power that lay in those wings, the strength of their muscles. Dan stood in the middle of the hatch, his eyes glued to Adrian's form as Adrian soared and dipped, curved in circles and eights. Finally, Adrian approached the ship again, and Dan stepped back to give him some space to land.

Which, apparently, was a lot harder and less instinctual than the actual flying. Wings twisted to the front and flapping almost frantically to slow himself down, Adrian nonetheless almost crashed into the open hatch, scrambling to keep on his feet but finally landing on his hands and knees, panting and shaking his head: “Who would have thought that landing is the hardest part about flying?”

Dan reached out his hand and helped Adrian up, grinning from ear to ear: “Don't worry. A lot of large birds look kind of clumsy once they touch down again. But in the air, they're a picture of elegance. Kind of like you.”

Adrian chuckled, brushing the dirt off the front of his pants' knees: “Why, thank you, Dan. I must admit, I did feel quite at home up there.”

“Yes.” Dan cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully: “It did look quite like you were running on instinct. As if you didn't even have to think about what you were doing. What, exactly, was it that you got infected with at the lab? Maybe it didn't just change your physiology, but your neuronal pathways, too...”

Adrian looked away, running a hand through his hair, which had become disheveled during the flight. Dan could see him work his jaw, the fingers of his other hand clenching slightly. Finally, Adrian looked back at him, his face sombre: “It was a retrovirus. One that was supposed to activate inactive DNA, ancient bits of code that aren't usually expressed any more.”

Dan blinked, shaking his head in confusion: “But that's impossible. I mean, that thing should've maybe given you fur or a tail or... but not wings. And especially not three pairs of wings! Something must have gone wrong.”

Adrian sighed, wrapping his arms around his torso and shivering slightly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I guess it's time I introduced you to some family lore. Because believe me, the retrovirus did exactly what it was supposed to do.”

–

Dan had dropped Adrian off at Veidt Towers, and then brought Archie back to the owl's nest. Now, he was hurrying back towards Adrian's apartment, his mind circling around what Adrian had said. He had asked Adrian to further explain, of course, but Adrian had just clammed up as usual, telling Dan that he would explain everything once they were both back at the apartment.

Once there, Dan found Adrian sitting backwards on a chair, his arms wrapped around the backrest, staring gloomily at a huge leather-bound book that was sitting on the table in front of him.

“So,” Dan said, pulling up a chair for himself and sitting down on its edge, leaning towards Adrian expectantly, “are you going to give me some more explanation about how the hell a retrovirus could have caused you to grow wings?”

Adrian cast a sideways glance at Dan, and then nudged his chin in the direction of the book.

“What's that?”

“The family bible.”

Dan blinked. “Huh. I didn't know you were religious.”

“I'm not.” There was a moment of silence, but then Adrian heaved a sigh and straightened up a bit, reaching out to carefully open the book. Dan didn't even need to see the yellowed pages, the hand-drawn pictures and script to realize how old that tome must be. The reluctant, almost cautious reverence with which Adrian handled it was more than enough for that.

“This is more than a simple religious text, Daniel. It's almost 500 years of family history, written on blank pages and later into every margin the original text left open. A lot of it isn't even legible, at least not if you don't speak medieval German, but...” Adrian broke off, looking down at his fingers which were hovering only a fraction above the page. “It's the only thing I kept when I gave everything else away. I thought about giving it to a museum, or simply destroying it, but I just couldn't. I wanted a clean break, to wipe everything out and make my own history, but I couldn't bring myself to really do it.” Adrian's voice was hushed, almost as if he were talking to himself. Then, his lips twitched into a short, bitter smile: “It would have been futile, anyway, seeing how everything that is written down in there is also written down in the code at the heart of each and every cell in my body.”

Dan leaned in even more, until he was close enough to make out the words and letters that covered the page Adrian had opened, scanning the text. He recognized the style of the letters from other medieval books he had seen on display, but he couldn't make out a single word. The same went for the hand-written scribbles that covered almost every available margin in a number of different hands, some so close to the original text that they seemed to weave in and out of it like the strands of a tapestry. Then, his gaze fell on the page next to it, and he drew in a short breath.

The other page held not text, but an illustration, a picture drawn in little detail, but with vivid colors that still seemed to glow after hundreds of years. It showed a kneeling person, a woman in a simple dress, who was looking up at another figure that was hovering above her. An angel. A six-winged angel, whose body was surrounded by flames, and who was pointing gravely towards some hills that could be seen in the background.

“That,” Adrian said, providing an answer to the question Dan hadn't even had time to pose yet, “is St. Theresa. Who, according to family legend, is my ancestor. The story goes that she helped the Catholic bishop and his army take back her home town from the Anabaptists. She was able to tell them when and where to launch their attack, because, and this is the relevant bit, she was visited the night before by an angel, a seraph, who told her how they could take back the city. The official version states that the seraph visited her, and not the bishop himself, because she was a devout virgin.”

Dan had been squinting at the picture, and yes, there was the silhouette of a city, barely visible on top of those hills. Now, he turned his attention back to Adrian: “But that's not the whole story, is it?”

Adrian chuckled, and flashed him an almost wicked grin: “Not by far. The part that is usually left out in the official version is that she was still devout, but not quite as virginal any longer the morning after the angel had visited her.”

Dan sat back in his chair, adjusting his glasses and running a hand through his hair. It was painfully obvious where this story was going, but at the same time, he just couldn't believe it. Saints and angels and... “So you're saying that the picture actually shows both of your ancestors? That you're...?”

“The descendant of an angel. Yes.”

“But, Adrian.” Dan shook his head, as if by doing so he could somehow jumble his thoughts and make them arrive at a different, logical conclusion. “Angels aren't real.”

“That's what I always thought, too. That it was all just an attempt to explain... certain things. But I guess we've been proven wrong.” Adrian spread his wings a bit and smiled, but it was a tired, sad smile, the little humor it contained merely an attempt to mask a deeper pain.

“My mother used to tell me the story about St. Theresa and the angel a lot,” Adrian went on, his eyes unfocused, looking back into memory. “Usually when I was crying because I had been teased again. You see, I had been born with six small, well, lumps on my back. They looked almost like blunt spikes. I hated them, because they made me different. And of course everyone in the neighborhood knew. I was the local freak boy.” Adrian's face had hardened at the last words, and he swallowed visibly, slowly shaking his head: “I begged them to take me to a doctor to have them removed, but all my parents did was tell me I should be proud, because they were a mark of how special I was. That I was the descendant of a messenger of God himself, and that I was the first one in generations to have them, which made me extra-special.”

Adrian wrapped his arms tighter around the back of the chair, still not looking at Dan, but rather at the host of painful memories he was going through, his gaze dark and faraway. His voice was quiet, soft, and he sounded almost like the lonely child he had been: “I didn't want to be special. I wanted to be normal. I wanted the other children to play with me and be my friends, but even when they weren't calling me names, I was still never one of them. I was always apart, always different. Always the freak. I was relieved when my parents decided to leave Germany.” Here, Adrian smiled, casting a short glance at Dan: “They were worried that something would happen to me. That I would be taken away, or worse. Once again because I was different. Defective and unfit, as the doctor who visited our school had said.”

Dan's heart ached in sympathy for Adrian, and for the boy Adrian had once been, and he had to keep himself from reaching out and taking Adrian's hand. Instead, he tried to smile. “Seems like your parents loved you very much.”

“Seems like it, yes,” Adrian echoed, but there was an unmistakable bitterness to his voice. “That doesn't mean that they didn't put me through years and years of alienation and abuse with their refusal to just let me be normal. Because, you see, those things could have been removed by a simple operation, leaving me with nothing but a few small scars. I did have them removed, once my parents were dead and no longer able to withhold their permission. I fixed my appearance, but I guess there are some things that cannot be fixed.”

Silence stretched between them, Adrian looking lost in thought, and Dan trying to get his in order, to somehow make sense of what he had just heard. In a way, though, it made almost too much sense. Adrian's inability to really connect with people, his obsession with being perfect. His devastation at what had happened. The desperate need to get things fixed while at the same time not wanting anyone to see him like this.

“I'm sorry,” Dan finally said, trying to sound empathic while keeping the pity out of his voice. He was quite sure Adrian didn't want pity. “I'm sorry you had to go through all of that. But you're not a freak. You're different, yes, but that's not a bad thing.”

Adrian smirked: “Please excuse me if I'm not convinced, Daniel. You're a good man, but unfortunately, good men are about as rare as angels.”

“No,” Dan said, shaking his head, “you're wrong. I know you've suffered, but Adrian, people aren't like that any more. The world isn't like that any more. I mean, come on! We've got Jon, who is a glowing blue... whatever who can rearrange atoms with nothing but a passing thought! Really, an angel, that's nothing compared to that. That's just a pair of extra limbs.”

“Jon's just one, for the lack of a better word, person, Dan. The only metahuman on the whole planet.”

“Well, now you're the second!” Dan got up and paced a few steps around the room. Adrian's pessimism was beginning to grate on him. Sure, the situation was anything but easy, but it seemed as if Adrian didn't even want to consider the possibility of it being anything less than a total catastrophe. Dan sat down again, looking straight at Adrian: “Really, what's the worst that can happen?”

“I could lose my company because no one wants to do any business with me any more?” Adrian replied smoothly, raising an eyebrow.

“So what,” Dan shot back, “you've build an empire from nothing before. You're the smartest man in the world, you can do it again.”

“The government seizes me and uses me for medical experiments or other nefarious purposes?”

“There's a chance that they would do that, yes,” Dan conceded. Then, though, he smirked: “But there are laws against that kind of thing. And remember, where the law ends, there's still us.”

Adrian chuckled fondly, shaking his head: “That is a very touching thought, Daniel.” Then, his expression hardened again: “People will call me a freak, and I will be ostracized. All of my friends will leave me, and I'll be alone for the rest of my life.”

“Name one friend who isn't me.” The moment he had said it, Dan could have slapped himself for it. Leaning forward, he reached out towards Adrian: “Damn, I'm sorry, that was a horrible thing to say...”

“No.” Adrian sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, a pained smile on his face. “It's the truth. You're the only person I have who's something like a friend. So I guess at least there, things wouldn't change all that much.”

This time, Dan didn't hold back on reaching out and covering Adrian's hand with his: “I'm not something like a friend, Adrian. I am your friend. After all, I'm here with you, right?” Dan smiled gently, giving Adrian's fingers a slight squeeze. Yes, it was true, Adrian didn't have many people who, at the end of the day, really cared about him. But Dan would be damned before he would let Adrian believe that he had absolutely no one.

Slowly, cautiously, Adrian returned the smile: “Right.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dr. Schuler held the x-rays up to the harsh, bright light of the viewing screen, frowned, and shook his head. He was a childhood friend of Dan's, and had patched Dan up more than once after something had gone wrong on patrol. Dan knew he could trust Schuler to keep quiet about this, and handle it with the utmost sensitivity, which is what he had told Adrian when he had suggested they visit him. Also, Schuler worked as head trauma surgeon in a private clinic, which had the added bonus of there being absolutely no one but them around at 3am.

“I guess I don't have to tell you that this is unlike anything I've ever seen in my life,” Schuler said, still looking at the x-rays of Adrian's back. “Frankly, I'm baffled. I have no idea how this works, even now that I'm seeing the structures right in front of me. According to everything I know about anatomy and physiology, it shouldn't.”

He turned around to face Adrian, who just gave a short shrug: “Don't ask me. I'm perfectly aware that according to every medical and biological textbook in print, I shouldn't exist. But I do, so let's just say it's a miracle and move on, shall we?”

It was clear from Adrian's posture, the tension in his jawline, that he was feeling more than a little uncomfortable. Even though Adrian was still insistent on wanting to get the wings removed, he had been quite reluctant to actually go see a surgeon, or in fact any kind of medical professional, about it. And really, after what Adrian had told him the night before, Dan could understand.

“Do you think it's possible to remove them?” The tone of Adrian's voice was brusque, nervous, and Dan could see the slight tremble in his wings.

Schuler shook his head: “I don't think so. I'm sorry.” He looked at Adrian, trying to defuse the other man's nerves with compassion and honesty: “It would be far too much of a risk. These structures – your wings – they're not just some abnormal growth, like a sixth finger or something. They are entirely novel and highly sophisticated limbs, and they seem to be somehow connected to your spine. If we tried to surgically remove them, it's almost certain that the nerves in your spine would be damaged in the process. You'd end up paralyzed.”

Adrian looked away, biting his lower lip: “So I have the choice of being either a freak or a cripple, is what you're saying.”

“You're not a freak, Adrian,” Dan said, laying a hand on Adrian's forearm, his tone more impassioned than he'd intended. Really, he wished that Adrian would stop saying that.

“I concur with Dan,” Schuler said, giving Adrian a short smile before once again studying the x-rays. “Like I said, I've never seen anything like it before, but I wouldn't call it freakish. In fact, from a scientific point of view, it's quite amazing. Beautiful, even, the way your body has re-structured itself around those novel limbs. You truly are a medical miracle.”

Adrian smiled sadly, shaking his head, his arms crossed in front of his chest: “Thank you for trying to cheer me up. But I'm afraid it's not working.”

“I'm sorry I couldn't give you the news you wanted to hear, Mr. Veidt. But if there ever is anything else I can do for you, please don't hesitate to call. Dan can give you my number.” Schuler grinned at Dan: “God knows he's rung me up more than once in the middle of the night, asking to have some joint pulled back in its socket, or even bullets removed. And you can be sure that I won't breathe a word of this to anybody.”

“I'm grateful for your discretion, and that you were willing to have a look at it, Dr. Schuler,” Adrian said, then gave a small nod: “If you'll excuse us now.” He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair: “I have a whole life to re-arrange, it seems.”

They walked back to the helicopter pad where Dan had parked Archie, with Adrian lagging behind a bit. Adrian was walking as if in some kind of trance, although it was probably closer to shock, Dan thought, a tight little lump forming in his chest. That had not been what he'd wanted to hear, even though both Dan and him had, in some part of their minds, known that it was the only realistic answer.

Dan already had one foot on the steps that led into Archie's interior when Adrian spoke.

“Dan.” His voice was small, frightened, broken, and it hurt Dan to the core. “I don't know what to do. I... don't know.”

Without thinking, Dan stepped down from the ladder and went back to where Adrian was standing. Putting a hand on Adrian's cheek, he sought the other man's eyes, willing himself to project all the confidence and optimism that Adrian was lacking at the moment. “You'll figure it out. We'll figure it out. Together.”

With a short, trembling sigh, Adrian wrapped his arms and wings around Dan, letting his forehead rest on Dan's shoulder for a moment.

“Thank you for not leaving me alone in this.” he whispered against Dan's shoulder, the words barely loud enough to be heard.

“I won't. Not ever.”

–

“So, what now?” Dan was leaning against the edge of the dinner table, while Adrian was slumped into one of the chairs in his by now customary backwards position, his arms wrapped around the backrest, wings drooping.

“I told you, I don't know,” Adrian muttered. “I feel like someone pulled the rug out from underneath my feet, and now I'm like the coyote in those Saturday morning cartoons, standing on air and knowing all too well that I'm going to plummet down the canyon in a few seconds.”

“Except that you have wings.”

Adrian gave a short, barking laugh: “Which got me into this position in the first place.”

A heavy silence fell over them. Dan looked out of the window, then back at Adrian, who was staring at the Bible that was still lying on the table with an intensity that should by rights have made the book burst into flames. There had to be something he could do, something he could say, to make Adrian realize that just because his life had changed didn't mean that it was over. He wouldn't let Adrian lose himself in this.

“What's the most important thing in your life, Adrian?”

“My company,” Adrian said without thinking.

“Really?” Dan raised an eyebrow. Sure, he knew that Veidt Enterprises was hugely important for Adrian, but he never would have thought Adrian so... shallow. So focused on money and success. Damn it, he knew Adrian wasn't like that.

There was another short silence, and then Adrian sighed: “...no.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don't know.”

“Bullshit.”

Adrian gave Dan a look that, a few days ago, would have made Dan wither, but now, Dan just narrowed his eyes at the other man: “If you're anything, Adrian, you're driven. So don't try to tell me that you don't know what it is that drives you on. That gets you out of bed every morning, and through the dark hours of the night.”

“Why are you asking, anyway?” Adrian said, his tone a tad defensive.

Dan smirked: “Don't try to change the subject, Adrian.” Then, his expression softened: “But I'm asking because, if you know what the most important thing in your life is, well, you know what you need to get back first, right? It's where you, we, need to start.”

“You know,” Adrian said, a grin playing around the corners of his mouth, “you can be pretty smart, Dan. At the moment, I'd even go so far as to concede that you might be smarter than me.”

“I'll take that as the highest form of compliment you'll give me,” Dan said, chuckling slightly. “But honestly, you've been through a lot the last few days. I bet that once you have your footing back, you'll be back to old form. Read, the biggest smartass in the world.”

“Why, thank you, Daniel,” Adrian replied, not without a touch of sarcasm.

“So, what is it? The most important thing in your life?”

“I want to help people,” Adrian said, his face serious once again, a slightly faraway look in his eyes. “I want to make the world a better place. Show people that it's better if we're united, if we work together, than to constantly be at each other's throats. It's why I became a mask in the first place. I wanted to be an inspiration.”

“I don't see any reason why you can't be a mask any more. Or help people.” Dan gave Adrian a sly smile: “After all, you're an angel now. Helping people is what you're supposed to do. Well, helping or smiting. Of course, it would be hard to keep up a secret identity, since those wings are kind of hard to hide...”

Adrian shrugged: “Actually, I was thinking of making my identity public, anyway. And retiring from the mask business.”

Dan blinked, slightly taken aback by this sudden revelation: “Why?”

“It's complicated. And after what's happened, it's no longer relevant anyway, so forget about it.” Adrian waved a hand, as if to shoo away the words he'd just said. Then, he looked at Dan, his brow furrowing in thought: “But you do have a point there. Angels are symbols for protection, justice and peace, messengers of the divine in all the Abrahamic religions, and even some others... like this, I'm a more effective symbol than Ozymandias ever could have been.”

“See, it's not all bad,” Dan said with a smile. Maybe, finally, Adrian was ready to move on from the doom and gloom and try to find the bright spots in this admittedly messy situation.

Adrian smirked: “Point taken. But still, it's going to take some major adjustments. And I'm not just talking about my costume and fighting style here. Although that is something I'll have to put a bit of thought into, too, if I'm going to go back to being a vigilante.”

“I'm sure you'll come up with something. Knowing you, I'm sure you'll have come up with something in the morning,” Dan said, smiling and barely suppressing a yawn. “Speaking of which, I think it's time I hit the couch.”

“You don't have to.”

“Oh, believe me, I do,” Dan said, pushing up his glasses a bit and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I'm terribly tired.”

“That wasn't what I meant, Daniel. What I meant was...” Adrian took a deep breath, looking away for a moment, almost as if he were nervous, before looking Dan in the eyes again. “You don't have to sleep on the couch.” There was an unspoken question in those green eyes, and for a moment, Dan wasn't sure that he knew what Adrian was talking about.

But then it clicked, and Dan felt himself flooded with warmth as something he didn't even know he had been holding back was finally released. He was aware that he was grinning, probably pretty stupidly, too, but he didn't care.

Adrian grinned back, his eyes sparkling with warmth and humor: “I can't guarantee that I won't be hogging most of the bed, though. These wings take up an awful lot of space.”

“Don't worry,” Dan replied, “I'll find some space to squeeze in. And I bet they make a really nice blanket, too.”

Pushing himself off from the table, he bent down to kiss Adrian, who craned up to meet him. Adrian's lips were soft and warm against his, and a part of Dan was actually surprised at this, since he had always imagined Adrian to be somewhat cool to the touch. Probably because up until now, that's what Adrian had always been – cool, aloof and untouchable. But the last few days had changed that, like they had changed so many things.

“Feel free to snuggle in underneath them...” Adrian murmured before closing in for another kiss.

–

“You know, if this didn't feel so good I would be tempted to remind you that I've got other body parts in need of some attention, too,” Adrian said with a breathless chuckle. He was leaning against the wall of the guest room, wings splayed as if in full flight, his hands roaming over Dan's chest and sides.

“Sorry,” Dan said with a grin that was just this side of guilty, “but they're just so pretty. Not that the rest of you isn't pretty, too,” he added hastily. By now, he had probably touched every single feather on Adrian's wings, but he still couldn't keep his hands off them. They were perfection, pure and simple. The elegance of the lines and gentle curves, and the enticing contrast between the softness of the feathers and the strength of the bones underneath... he ran his palm over the edge of the middle pair, then closed his hand, squeezing gently.

Adrian gave a lustful whine and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him. “I'm glad you noticed.”

Adrian's fingers were busy drawing intricate patterns onto the skin of Dan's back, Dan's shirt having been the first thing to go after they'd moved their making out from the living room to the guest room. Dan ran his fingers through the small, soft feathers on the edge of one of the bottom wings, ruffling them slightly, and felt Adrian shiver against him.

“Flying must have been fun, if it's always like this,” Dan said, leaning in to kiss Adrian's neck.

“That's different,” Adrian mumbled, his hands on Dan's hips now, holding them still, Adrian's own hips undulating against Dan's slowly but insistently. “That's not you touching me.”

Dan opened his mouth to reply, but whatever it was that he'd wanted to say was wiped away when Adrian's fingers were suddenly on one of his nipples, giving it a slight tweak. Dan gasped, his hips jerking forward as a bolt of pleasure sizzled through him. He heard Adrian chuckle, feeling the other man's breath against his ear, and then Adrian's teeth were on his lobe, nipping and pulling it gently. Dan moaned, and let his hands slide over the plane of the wings and down Adrian's torso to his pants, quickly undoing the button and pushing them down over Adrian's hips.

Adrian gave a relieved sigh, then made quick work of Dan's pants while kicking his own out of the way, and almost as soon as his pants were down, Dan could feel Adrian's fingers wrap around his cock. Dan moaned, feeling his knees buckle slightly, and grasped for Adrian's wings, which got an answering moan from Adrian.

“Careful there,” Adrian whispered, his lips still next to Dan's ear. “Or you'll end this before it gets really good.” With a gentle rustle of feathers, Adrian wrapped the two lower wing pairs around Dan's body, enveloping Dan in a cocoon of warmth. The feathers tickled Dan's skin slightly, just enough to send a pleasurable tingle all through his body, and with a surprising strength, Dan felt himself being pulled flush against Adrian's body.

Looking at Adrian, Dan saw his own smile mirrored on Adrian's face. Leaning in, Adrian pressed his lips against Dan's, kissing him deeply, one of his hands reaching up to caress Dan's nape. Then, Adrian started moving his hips again, rubbing his cock against Dan's in undulations that started out slow, but quickly turned more frantic, wanting.

Pulling away from the kiss, Adrian panted slightly: “Touch me.”

Dan didn't need any further encouragement, his hands reaching up to roam over the expanse of Adrian's topmost wings, following the edge from where the wing joined Adrian's back as far as he could comfortably reach. Occasionally, he would run his fingers deep into the feathers, or give the edge a gentle, but firm squeeze. His hands were beginning to shake slightly, his own arousal fanned by Adrian's cock rubbing against his, the feeling of Adrian's other wings wrapped around his body, and the sight of the other man, no longer composed and aloof, but unraveling quickly, head leaned back against the wall and eyes closed in pleasure.

By now, Dan had picked up Adrian's rhythm, following the movements of Adrian's hips with his own. While his hands were busy caressing Adrian's wings, his lips were roaming over Adrian's neck and jaw, occasionally capturing Adrian's lips for another passionate kiss. He could feel Adrian's breath hot against his skin, punctuated by the occasional touch of soft lips or a flick of the tongue.

Suddenly, Adrian's body went rigid, his eyes flying open, a drawn-out moan leaving his throat as he came, wings tightening around Dan's form. Dan groaned, barely able to move, but still rutting against Adrian almost desperately until his own orgasm took him only moments later, and now he was glad that Adrian was hugging him so tightly, since he was sure his knees would have given in otherwise.

It took a while for Dan to regain his senses, and he leaned his head against Adrian's shoulder, panting, his heart racing.

“You know,” he said once he'd caught his breath again, “for an angel, you're kind of naughty.”

Adrian laughed, and nuzzled into Dan's slightly damp hair: “You haven't seen the half of it yet. Also, I'm only, oh, about one hundredth angel. Most of me is just as human as you are, and I'm sorry to have to tell you that you had just as much of a part in this as I did.”

“Oh, don't be sorry. I'd rather you promise me that we're going to do that again, soon.”

Adrian looked into Dan's eyes, his smile happy, satisfied: “You can count on that.”


	4. Chapter 4

Dan had fallen asleep tucked away under Adrian's wings, surrounded by the smell of soft feathers and a warm human body. When he awoke, though, he found himself lying underneath a blanket, and Adrian gone.

Rubbing his eyes sleepily, Dan reached for his glasses and sat up. The door was standing ajar, the bright light of mid-morning falling through the crack, slicing through the semidarkness of the room like a dagger.

Dan yawned and stretched, then swung his legs out of the bed. Padding over through the door, he pushed it open, blinking his eyes against the brightness of the living room. Adrian was sitting in front of the row of wall-length windows, looking out over the city that stretched out beneath them. His chin was resting on his arms, which he had draped over the backrest of a chair in what had by now become his usual position.

“'morning,” Dan yawned, rubbing a hand through his hair. “You been awake for long?”

Adrian lifted his head, half-turning to give Dan a soft smile: “Good morning, Dan. Yes, I've been awake for a bit. You know how it is. Sometimes, you wake up at the crack of dawn, and then your thoughts start up and won't let you sleep any more.”

Dan pulled up a chair and sat down next to Adrian, mimicking his pose. “Yes,” he said, and chuckled. “Usually, it has me end up in my workroom, tinkering on some gadget, or trying to improve Archie's engines.” He eyed Adrian sideways: “What's been keeping you up?”

Adrian arched his back, stretching his arms above his head and loosening the muscles in his shoulders, and Dan couldn't help but notice the way the muscles moved underneath Adrian's smooth, pale skin. It reminded him vaguely of a tiger he'd seen at the zoo a few years ago.

“Well, I've been thinking about what to do now, what with the wings being here to stay.” Adrian settled down again, and sighed: “I can't hide myself away from the world forever, even if I'd like to. I mean, of course I could just dissolve my company, take the money, buy a cabin in the woods and disappear. But I know I wouldn't be able to do that for very long. I would go mad out there. I need to feel like I'm doing something for the world.”

Dan nodded. He knew the feeling. He wasn't exactly what you'd call a people person, but that didn't mean he did not like people. In fact, he liked them a lot, and being a masked vigilante was his way of showing that.

Adrian grimaced slightly: “So I guess I'll just have to bite the bullet and put myself out there. Show myself to people, and hope that they will accept me.”

“Have you come up with a plan on how to do that? I mean, you could just give a press conference, explain everything...”

“I don't think I'm quite ready for that yet,” Adrian said with a quiet laugh. Then, he once again turned around to face Dan: “I was thinking along the lines of, well, letting people on to things slowly. Letting them see...” he struggled for a moment, “see the angel, and then letting them know it's me.” He shrugged: “After all, it worked with Ozymandias.”

“So you're thinking of going on patrol again?” Dan asked, raising his eyebrows. “But what about your company? You've been absent for a few days, but how many more before people become suspicious?”

“You've got a point there. But I've though of that, and I think I can keep myself away from any board meetings or public functions for a while longer. Not very long, a week at most, but after all, I do vanish to the Antarctic for a week or two at times.” Adrian frowned slightly, a thin line appearing between his eyebrows: “The only problem is my secretary, and a few other people who will start knocking at my door sooner rather than later. I can only hope that I did well when I selected them, and that they are as discrete and loyal as I think they are.”

Dan nodded. It must be hard for Adrian, being so dependent on the discretion, and therefore the whims, of other people. Adrian had always been a bit of a control freak, something Dan had noticed soon after he had gone on patrol with Ozymandias for the first time. He liked to know where everything and everyone was going, and usually had a plan for everything, even events that Dan wouldn't have reckoned would happen.

“What about the other masks? You should tell them. They would find out anyway, once you've been out there. And honestly, I don't think you have much to worry about with them.” He pulled a face: “Except maybe the Comedian. You never know what he's going to do. But the others... well, I'm sure the Doc won't even blink. Silk Spectre, she's hooked up with him, so while she might gape a bit at first, I don't think she'll make a big deal of it. As for Rorschach, I know him well enough to tell you that some wings won't change his opinion of you.”

Which was the truth, even if Dan was leaving out the part where Rorschach didn't have that high of an opinion of Adrian to start with. To him, Adrian's wealth and liberal attitudes were something to be highly suspicious of. On their nightly patrols, Dan had heard many a rant about how Ozymandias was lacking in moral fiber, on how he was too tolerant of deviancy and the ills of modern society. But then, those were things that Dan himself had had to hear thrown at him now and again. Rorschach tended to see things in black and white, not really acknowledging how maybe there were different ways to reach the same goal. Still, at the heart of it, Dan knew that Rorschach was a good man, and wouldn't do anything to endanger the life, health or identity of a fellow vigilante.

Adrian seemed to consider this for a while, gazing out of the window, the slight frown still in place. But then, he nodded: “I guess you're right.” He looked at Dan, nibbling his lower lip in an unconscious gesture: “Do you think you could get word out that I would like to meet with everyone tomorrow night? I know that last time went rather, well, badly, but still. It would make things easier if I didn't have to find them one by one.”

“No problem, Adrian,” Dan said with a reassuring smile. “I'll get them together all right.”

–

A week ago, Dan would have looked at Adrian and seen nothing but a slightly aloof calm. But a week ago, he hadn't known Adrian the way he did now. Now, he noticed the tension in the other man's jaw, the way he stared at a fixed point somewhere in the distance. The crossed arms, fingers curling inwards slightly. The breath that went in and out like a metronome, measured and strictly controlled.

Adrian was nervous, but really, Dan wouldn't have expected anything else. One would have to be truly inhuman to not be nervous in a situation like this. Standing in front of New York's extremely loosely knit mask community, with everyone's eyes glued to Adrian, to the wings that sprouted from his back.

Well, everyone's eyes except for Rorschach's. But here was another reason where being good with people, and knowing how to see things as subtle as the movement of an owl's head at dusk, came in handy. Dan had worked together with Rorschach long enough for him to know that there was a subtle meaning, a pattern, behind the seemingly random swirls on the other man's mask. Dan wouldn't have been able to explain it to anyone else, but most of the time, he knew what Rorschach was probably looking like underneath that mask. This swirl, though, was a rare one. Bafflement.

“Well, fuck me.” As usual, the Comedian was the first to break the silence that had descended after Adrian had given everyone a very abridged version of why he was standing in front of them without a mask or costume, and with three pairs of wings growing from his back. And also as per usual, the Comedian's first line of defense was that of humor: “I mean, you've always been too damn saintly and sanctimonious. Small wonder you sprouted wings, Ozy.”

“I don't think I will be using that moniker any longer,” Adrian said levelly, not rising to the bait. Still, Dan could see Adrian's back tense up, the wings shifting subtly.

The Comedian grinned around his cigar: “Whatcha gonna call yourself, then? Cupid?”

Adrian had just opened his mouth to say something in reply when Rorschach's gravelly voice cut into the conversation: “Name of minor Roman deity would hardly be appropriate for guardian of the throne of God.”

Suddenly, everyone's attention shifted from Adrian to Rorschach. The Comedian took the cigar from his mouth, blinked, then put it back: “...what?”

Rorschach was looking directly at Adrian, the black marks on his mask showing a sharp, almost angular pattern. “Six-winged angel,” he explained, “Seraphim. The burning ones. Guard the throne of the Lord, singing his praises. Keepers of the divine order. Highest in the order of angels.” There was a short pause, and then, in a quieter tone: “Said to harbor the divine light, and communicate directly with God.”

There was a moment of silence, and the the Comedian barked out a laugh: “Where the hell did you get that from?”

“Christian theology. Foundation of western world. As you should know, Comedian.” Shifting his attention back to Adrian, Rorschach continued: “Archangel Gabriel is said to be a Seraph.”

“I don't think I shall be appropriating his name,” Adrian said, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “That would be overdoing it a bit. I'm not an angel. I'm just a man with wings.”

“True,” Rorschach said, giving a short snort.

“Still, they're pretty impressive,” Laurie said, raising and eyebrow and grinning. “If I were you, I'd use that. Sure, not everyone knows all those details like Rorschach does, but everyone knows what an Archangel is.”

“Would be blasphemy, Silk Spectre.”

Laurie waved a hand dismissively: “Oh, come on. For one, everyone here uses this kind of thing, the associations people have, for PR. It's why we dress up like this and give ourselves these silly names in the first place, right? To gain something from it.” Her eyes flickered to the man who was standing besides her, casting a subtle blue hue over her hair and face, and she smirked: “Besides, I think we're totally beyond blasphemy, what with people calling Jon God.”

The blotches on Rorschach's mask arranged themselves in an obvious frown, but he didn't say anything.

“Well, whatever new identity I decide on for my vigilante activities, I'd be grateful if you could keep this to yourself for now,” Adrian said, looking around the room. “I am perfectly aware that I won't be able to keep this, or my real identity, secret for much longer, but I would like to have a bit of control over the timing.”

Dan took a step forward: “Which is perfectly understandable. Everyone in this room should know how dangerous it is to have your real identity exposed to the public. Adrian's taking a great risk with this, so we should respect his wishes.” He couldn't help but narrow his eyes in the direction of the Comedian at that last bit. While he respected the man's abilities in a tight situation, Dan had never really trusted him. The Comedian was too much of a wild card for that.

“Don't worry, Owlboy,” the Comedian said with an amused smirk. “This is going to be a good show either way. So I'm just gonna sit back and wait for the punchline.”

\--

“...who described what she saw as “a man with wings, like an angel, only that he had three pairs instead of one”. The appearance of this man had such an effect on the would-be robbers that they immediately turned heel and fled.” Dan looked at Adrian, folding down the upper half of the newspaper he had been reading from, and grinned: “Seems like step one of your plan is going well. You've certainly made an impression. Even if it's just on the back pages of the Enquirer.”

Adrian smiled above the rim of his mug of coffee, his eyes a bit tired, but still shining with a cautious happiness: “Yes. Well, I didn't think I'd make the front page of the Times right after the first night, anyway. Right now, I'm a rumor. But give it a few more nights, and the rumor will have solidified enough for me to reveal myself to the public and have them think of me as something positive, instead of just a freak, something to be feared and mistrusted.”

Dan chuckled: “A bit of fear might not be such a bad thing. After all, you didn't even have to fight those guys in the alleyway. You just had to drop in and fan your wings a bit.” He shook his head in amusement at the memory: “The faces they made when they saw you...”

Adrian's smile widened, and he reached out to curl his fingers around Dan's: “You do realize that it won't always be this easy, right? The more people get used to me, the less they'll be inclined to just give up just because I'm there.”

Dan squeezed Adrian's fingers, sighing softly. “I know. I'm just hoping it will hold as long as possible. And that if they start fighting back, they'll at least aim for those parts of you that are just feathers, and nothing more.”

But only three nights later, Dan was gingerly trying to unstick a few bloodied feathers from a knife wound on one of Adrian's wings.

“Ow!” Adrian winced, the wing twitching away from Dan's touch.

“Hold still. I have to take a look at how deep this is,” Dan said, a worried frown on his face. They had faced off against five armed muggers that night. Two of them had fled immediately, but the rest had decided to make a stand and fight. Dan had disarmed one of them, Adrian the other, knocking the guy's pistol out of his hand with a snap of his wing. But at that moment, the guy's friend had pulled a knife, slicing it across the top of Adrian's outstretched wing. Adrian had whirled and taken him down, and after tying the guys up, Dan had insisted that they retreat to Adrian's penthouse so that he could have a look at the wound.

“There's not a lot of muscle to protect your bone and tendon on the edges of your wings. So if the cut goes to deep...” Dan shook his head, reaching over to take the moist washcloth from the shallow bowl it was sitting it and dabbing it at the wound, causing Adrian to hiss in pain. “Sorry.”

“It's all right,” Adrian said, attempting a smile that ended in a lopsided grimace. “It just stings a bit. I'm just glad that my boyfriend knows his way around birds,” he quipped, “since I don't fancy visiting a vet.”

Dan had to chuckle at this. The mental image of Adrian sitting in some veterinarian's waiting room next to some old lady with her sick cat was just too surreal. “Who would have thought that all those hours I spent as a boy fixing the wings of birds that had flown into windows or been attacked by our cat would come in handy one day.” He lifted his gaze from Adrian's wing to give the other man a soft smile: “Also, boyfriend, hm?”

“Well, you've practically been living here for over a week now, and shared a bed with me for the last few days. So why not put a name on it.” Adrian raised an eyebrow, his smile holding just the tiniest bit of insecurity: “Unless you're not comfortable with that word?”

“Oh, don't worry,” Dan replied, then leaned in to kiss Adrian softly, “I'm perfectly happy with it.”

Adrian nuzzled Dan's cheek before pulling back and letting Dan work on the cut again, trying his best to hold still.

“There,” Dan said after a while, “all clean. And it's only a shallow cut, so I don't think I'll need to do anything more than maybe put a band-aid on it. The bleeding's already stopped. Still,” he put the cloth away and turned to face Adrian, “we should maybe think about if there's any way that we can protect your wings a bit. Even though they're strong, they're at the same time quite vulnerable.” Dan bit the inside of his cheek, dropping his gaze: “And I'd hate to see you end up crippled just because some idiot with a gun got lucky and hit your wing joint.”

Adrian reached out, his fingertips brushing Dan's cheek, then along his jaw, gently lifting Dan's chin until Dan was looking at him: “Don't worry. We'll think of something. After all, I'm a genius, and you're a world-class inventor. It would be a shame if we couldn't come up with some kind of armor for my wings.”

Dan turned his head to place a kiss on Adrian's palm: “You're right. We'll think of something.”

Adrian put his other palm against Dan's jaw, taking Dan's face in his hands, and kissed him deeply. “Thank you. For taking care of me. For caring for me. For all of it. You're a good man, Daniel.”

–

“I guess this is it, then.” Adrian drew a deep breath, and Dan could see his arm twitch a bit, a suppression of the urge to run his hand through his hair. That, though, wouldn't be a good idea at the moment, not with all the care Adrian had just put into styling it just right.

Dan smiled, and patted the front of Adrian's shirt. Well, calling it a shirt was maybe a bit of a stretch. After some back and forth, Adrian's tailor had come up with a garment that did cover Adrian's chest – after all, Adrian had to be decent for his big press conference – but left the back completely open save for a few straps of cloth that ran between the wings, keeping it in place. After the necessary renovations in Adrian's bedroom had been done, Dan had caught him standing in front of the huge walk-in closet, staring at its contents with a look that could only have been described as sorrow. And, well, it was understandable. Adrian's wardrobe was something to behold, always had been. Dan had suggested auctioning it all off for charity, and Adrian had agreed that it would be the proper way for his suits to go.

“You're going to be fine,” Dan said, pressing a quick kiss to Adrian's lips. “Now go out there and give them hell. Or rather, heaven,” he added, chuckling.

Adrian took Dan's hand, squeezing it slightly before letting go again. Then, he stepped forward, pushing through the large double doors that led from the office into the sun-lit foyer of the Veidt Building. Dan could hear the collective gasp, followed by a moment's stunned silence so deep you could hear the water tinkling in the fountains. Then, just as the doors fell shut behind Adrian's winged form, a storm of questions broke loose, accompanied by the bright flashes of dozens of cameras. Dan couldn't help but frown slightly, worry creasing his brow as he slipped through a side door leading to a corridor that would, eventually, bring him out into the lobby at the back of the throng of reporters.

“...which I will answer shortly. But for now, I would ask you to listen, since I do think that the statement I have prepared will render some of them unnecessary,” Adrian was saying, holding up his hands in a placating gesture and smiling as if this were nothing more than the announcement of a new item in the long line of Veidt products. Dan shook his head slightly, smiling. He envied Adrian for his ability to appear calm even if, on the inside, he was anything but. Dan could remember standing in front of an audience of fellow ornithologists a few times, constantly fidgeting with his glasses and not knowing what to do with his sweating hands.

Leaning against one of the marble pillars that were spaced throughout the foyer, Dan listened to Adrian's speech. Adrian recounted his infection with the retrovirus, which had led to his transformation, even spoke briefly of the family legend. The reporters were hanging on his every word, some of them busily taking notes, others seemingly engrossed in the tale Adrian was spinning.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have truly entered a time in which science will expand the boundaries of our lives. It is going to redefine humanity, not just in the way we live, but also as to who we are. The only limits to human potential are those which we set ourselves, and to overcome those limits, we need to do away with the fear of the unknown, of the different and unfamiliar, that has plagued us for so long. Only if all of humanity works together can we finally use our greatest tool, our mind, to its full potential.” There was silence for a moment, and then Adrian smiled once more: “I am now open for any and all questions you want to ask.”

Once again, the initial uproar was so loud and chaotic that Dan had trouble understanding even one word of it, but Adrian quickly managed to get the horde of reporters under control.

“Mr. Veidt, are you planning to make the retrovirus that caused your transformation available to the public?”

“Definitely not,” Adrian said, shaking his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Right now, it is still untested and highly dangerous, and it would be quite unethical to open it up for public use. But,” he added with a slight smile, his posture relaxing, “I will be giving samples to those biotechnology institutes that are interested in working with and improving its properties, since it has great potential for possible advances in the health sector.”

“Mr. Veidt, does this prove the existence of God?”

You had to be really quick to catch Adrian's somewhat surprised blink, and the hint of a frown that crossed his face at this question, but still, Dan turned his head, putting a hand above his mouth to hide his grin.

“The only thing my existence proves is that of winged humanoids,” Adrian said, smiling almost nonchalantly. “Every other conclusion, I leave up to your readers. I'm a businessman, not a theologian. Although I would like to point out that winged beings such as myself are part of many more religions and mythologies than just the Judeo-Christian one.”

The question and answer session went on for quite a long time, and once or twice, Dan shook his head in bewilderment at what kind of question some reporters came up with. But Adrian handled it all quite gracefully, deflecting those questions that got a bit too personal, until at last everyone seemed to have satisfied their curiosity.

Back in the penthouse, Adrian slumped onto an ottoman, shoulders and wings drooping exhaustedly. “God, I thought they'd never go away.”

Dan walked over and ran a hand through Adrian's hair, messing up its perfection. But then, he liked Adrian more when the other man wasn't being perfect. “You did great.”

“Well, we'll see about that tomorrow, when the papers hit the newsstands,” Adrian replied with a lopsided smile. “Or, in case of the TV reporters, in the evening news.”

“I guess we'll just have to wait and see, then,” Dan said with a slight shrug. “How about we order some Chinese takeout? I don't know about you, but I'm feeling hungry.”

“No objections to that,” Adrian said. Then, his face lit up with a mischievous smile: “And I have some ideas about dessert, too.”

Dan grinned back, and ran a hand over the curve of one of Adrian's wings, which got a small shudder from Adrian. “Maybe we should have dessert first. I've got to say, I've been itching to really mess up that pretty hair of yours ever since you came out of the bathroom.”

Adrian snaked up a hand, wrapping it around Dan's nape and pulling him down into a kiss. “Be my guest...”

–

“Playing God.” Adrian snorted, a look of disgust on his face that Dan was sure was not due to the coffee, which was really rather good, but more to the fact that Adrian was currently reading today's edition of the New Frontiersman. “They're making me out to be Frankenstein. And Frankenstein's monster. At the same time.”

Dan simply shrugged, spearing a piece of waffle on his fork: “What did you expect? They never liked you, they're not going to start now. But hey,” he continued through a mouthful of breakfast, “how about that headline in the Post? The Archangel of New York. I rather like it.”

Adrian put the paper down, pushing it away with his fingertips. “Well, it does have a little too much pathos, but I'm not going to complain. After all, the PR boys say that I shouldn't shy away from playing on the associations. Also, the article was amazingly positive.”

“Most of them seem to be,” Dan said. “Even if there are some that are a bit sensationalist. I guess after Jon, it's gotten a bit harder to shock people.”

Adrian smiled over the rim of his mug of coffee: “I remember you telling me pretty much that, back when I was adamant about how my life was now completely ruined.”

Dan shrugged, but couldn't hide his grin: “This is the moment where I should say “told you so”, right?”

“And you would be entirely justified in that,” Adrian said, eyes shining with fond amusement.

“So, what's on the agenda today? More interviews?”

“I'm afraid so,” Adrian sighed. “The next few days are packed with them. What about you?”

Dan took a sip from his coffee: “I guess I'll head back to the brownstone. I had an idea for some wing armor that I want to put together. We could test it tonight, if you're up for it.”

“Of course,” Adrian said. “After all, that's what angels were made to do. Protect people. Well,” he said, reaching out for Dan's hand across the table, “angels, and Nite Owls, too.”


End file.
